


nul points

by ever_increasing_circles



Category: British Comedian RPF, Pointless RPF
Genre: Eurovision, Gen, Yuletide, Yuletide 2012
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 09:04:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ever_increasing_circles/pseuds/ever_increasing_circles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard is always interested in introducing Alexander to new experiences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nul points

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> A Yuletide treat, because when I saw that other people were requesting Pointless, I couldn't help myself...! It's come up on the show several times that Alexander is almost scared of Eurovision... and thus, this. I hope you like it :D
> 
>  Any similarity between the fictional versions of the people portrayed here and the actual people is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person).

Age did not necessarily bring with it wisdom, but Richard liked to think that he'd learnt some things - if only about himself if nothing else - as time went by. One thing that it gave him great pleasure to finally be able to admit to himself was this: _dinner parties are a fairly unique source of stress, and it makes me much happier not to have to hold them._ He enjoyed an episode of Come Dine With Me as much as the next man, but wasn't sure if such things existed to exactly _endear_ one to the concept of throwing a dinner party. Perhaps if he invited Dave Lamb to provide running commentary.

Work functions and professional dinner-dates felt as if they filled any particular niche _to entertain, formally_ that he might have had. Other people - professionals! - cooking, company picking up the tab, _brilliant_. Most of the people he was likely to ever want to invite to any sort of a dinner were likely to be present at those events anyway, and thus there was little pressure ever to have to think of having to do something like that _himself_ in the first place. Romantic dinner for two? Not _easily_ dealt with, but able to be approached with the appropriate level of effort and decorum. Informal meal for a couple of friends? Fine. _Dinner parties_? Richard was happy to quietly abandon the concept.

Alexander held dinner parties. Alexander seemed to _love_ holding dinner parties. Slightly below the stress of 'holding a dinner party' came that of 'attending a dinner party' and Richard did feel that that was something he could deal with, but he would often find himself sat there (at a perfectly-decorated table holding just the perfect amount of nibbles, drinking a perfectly-chosen wine from a perfectly-suited crystal glass while waiting on the undoubtedly-perfect meal that was about to take place) wondering how anybody's first - or third, or fifth, or eighteenth - reaction to an event could so enthusiastically be ' _dinner party!_ ' so very often. Richard liked to tease Alexander for this, and Alexander was quite keen to downplay any angle of class-based ribbing, but there were some things that wouldn't stay down no matter _how_ much you tried to keep them there.

When Alexander smiled, over drinks, and suggested " _next time should be at Richard's house, don't you think?_ " Richard had smiled and laughed and wondered what course of action to take. It was fairly easy to see that Alexander making a comment like that - in front of _other people_ \- was as some small sort of 'revenge' for Richard suggesting all these dinner parties were so _unbelievably_ posh in the first place, but _they_ didn't know that. Those mutual friends who smiled and nodded and agreed and _wouldn't that be lovely?_ _You must, Richard, you simply must--!_

Richard invited Alexander to the football, and was met by a steadfast and definite negative. _Fair enough_ , he thought. He liked to tease Alexander but he didn't want to terrify him, and wasn't too sure he could see Alexander fitting in on the grounds and in the crowds to begin with. Richard had his own passions and Alexander a completely different set, and that was fine. _Something more gentle._ Richard took his thoughts back to the drawing board.

Several months later, an opportunity presented itself. The only thing to do was to find out if Alexander was free; Richard didn't want to ask far enough in advance for it to seem like a deliberate ploy, but also didn't want to spring it on him so suddenly that he had other plans and commitments (and he certainly often had _those_ ). For all of that, though, Richard kept his question casual. " _Just wondered if you were free that weekend, that's all. It's okay if you're not._ "

" _This isn't about the football again, is it?_ "

" _No, no, I know that's not gonna happen. No, I just thought we could get together, have a little night in, a few drinks... just thought you might fancy it, that's all. You've been busy lately, thought you could do with a bit of downtime._ "

" _I can't disagree with you there...! I'll check my diary and I'll let you know. If not then, then definitely another day. A quiet evening in sounds quite perfect at the moment..._ "

Richard bit back the urge to insist that it really had to be _that day_. He felt rewarded for this when, a couple of days afterward, he checked his phone to find a message from Alexander, giving the all-clear for that particular weekend.

 

\--

 

Alexander sighed deeply as Richard closed the front door behind him, and then helped him out of his coat. "Ah, thank you. _Oh_ , but I've been looking forward to this, Richard. I don't wish to complain, but the thought of two days all to myself... it's kept me going, I won't lie to you."

Richard hung Alexander's coat up on one of the empty hooks next to the door. "And here I am, making demands on your time."

"Oh, no, no no no, I don't mean it like that...! Don't think that, Richard, please. How should I put it... having the freedom to _choose_ how to spend my time, I suppose. My choice, for this weekend, is to be here. Is that better? I was thinking I could head out tomorrow afternoon, then perhaps I can be home before it gets too dark. Still, that's on the very opposite side of the weekend to the one we stand on now...!"

Richard indicated towards the lounge, "Did you want to head on through?" (Alexander did so; Richard followed.) "... I have a confession to make, though."

Alexander was already settled on one end of the sofa, bringing out the bottles of wine he'd brought and setting them down on the long coffee table in front of him. "Oh?"

"Do you know what today is?"

"Saturday?"

"That, I can't deny. Try opening it up a bit: what's _happening_ today?"

Alexander narrowed his eyes in thought. "Is it a football thing?"

"No, don't worry, forget the football. Guess again."

"Is it... someone's birthday...?"

"More general than that. Think _events_."

"Are we going somewhere...?"

"No, this is an event we can enjoy from the comfort of our living-rooms. It's something on the television."

"It's not football..."

"It's nothing to do with sport. Do you want a clue? Okay. Imagine you've just scored a Pointless answer. Flashing lights, triumphant music sting, happy days. How many points do you have?"

"... Ostensibly... none?"

"Okay, now imagine you're French. How many points do you have now?"

"... Zero...?"

Richard stared at Alexander for a couple of seconds; Alexander only stared back with an open, questioning expression - there didn't seem to be any other shred of recognition there at all. Richard relented, "It's Eurovision, Xander. The Eurovision Song Contest! Are you excited?"

The penny having been forcibly dropped, Alexander still frowned his light confusion. "Oh, well, I've--... to tell you the truth, I've never really sat down to watch it."

Prior knowledge of this fact had been what had planted the seed of the idea in Richard's mind to begin with. The topic of Eurovision was one quite often requested for the show, and one that came up every once in a while, too. And every time, Richard would ask Alexander about it, knowing that he'd never watched it, that Alexander almost made it a point in his life _not_ to watch it - he'd throw a hundred dinner parties, but he wouldn't get excited for Eurovision? In Richard's mind, this was more or less a just 'punishment' for that comment made months previous, although he held his doubts that Alexander would even remember it to make the connection. Richard had these moments, though; things that Alexander had never done or purposefully chosen not to experience, with no real reason given as to _why_. He knew Alexander part of one of _those_ families not drawn to the allure of the family videogame console, but he still intended to get an Xbox controller in Alexander's hands _one_ of these days. He'd even take it easy on him, _to begin with, at least_. He found the differences between them quite fascinating sometimes, the only thing moreso being when he'd throw a rope across to see what Alexander would do. And Richard was certainly not one to miss Eurovision, not if he could help it.

"I know you haven't. That's all going to change today, though...! You're always talking about how you've never seen it, so I thought I'd do the noble thing and offer you a _brand new experience_. We're going to have our own Eurovision party! I've bought snacks and everything. It is going to be. Totes. Amazeballs."

"I'm... sure that that's... exactly what it will be. Yes."

Richard smiled, going across to the door leading through to the kitchen. "It won't be that bad, I promise. You like things that are fun, right? You're not too averse to joy, are you? It's fun! It'll be fun. And we've got the semi-finals to watch first, don't forget." He walked into the kitchen at that point, feeling sorry not to have witnessed Alexander's reaction but enjoying giving him the time and space in which to react in the first place. He heard movement from the lounge, and was at one of the kitchen counters by the time Alexander appeared in the doorway.

"Semi-finals!?"

"Semi-finals, yes."

"... You're sure it's Eurovision and not the football...?"

"I'm _so_ sure. There's a lot of countries want to enter, they've got to narrow it down _somehow_. ...Actually, the semi-finals have already been and gone, but don't worry, I recorded them specially for the occasion. You're getting the full Eurovision this year, my friend." Richard maintained his smile for as long as Alexander kept that slightly disbelieving stare. After a long couple of seconds, he too relented, giving the nod of a man with full knowledge of the crushing inability he possessed to escape his certain fate.

"Well, you've, um..." Alexander watched as Richard produced bowls and corresponding snacks to fill them with. "You've certainly gone the distance with this. ...You enjoy it, don't you?"

"What, Eurovision? Yeah, love it--! I can't believe you've never watched it." He took as many of the bowls as he could carry through. "And thus, tonight. Got any early picks? I hear Norway is pretty strong this year."

"Here, I'll help you with those. Norway, really? Well, I--... I couldn't tell you the participating countries off the top of my head, so--..."

"For shame, Xander...! It's not even been that long since it last came up on the show. Give me three low-scoring answers and maybe I'll forgive you."

"I--"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Even I don't remember _that_ much." They made their way back through to the sofa and the coffee table, placing the bowls down next to the wine. Richard couldn't help but note Alexander's still-reluctant expression, and so reached out to nudge his shoulder in a reassuring sort of a way. "If you really find yourself hating it, just so much you can't _stand_ it, we can put a film on or something. It's what TV-Rs are for. And besides, it shouldn't run much past about... eleven-ish, I think? Beyond that, we can talk poets or philosophy or whatever other highbrow things it'll take to refill your meter. Whatever you like."

Alexander was silent for a moment as he took his place on the sofa again. When he looked up at Richard, however, he smiled. "... I'm being quite churlish, aren't I? You're the one with all the secret formulas as to what makes television _work_ , I'll bow to your better judgement. ...And besides, you said that you enjoy it. I think I can enjoy the fact that _you_ enjoy it, even if I might be... somewhat reluctant. If you show me the things that you like? Well, I'm sure that I can take the time to learn them. I'm here because I wanted to spend time with you, Richard...! Whatever we choose to do is only further consequence of that one simple fact. ...And being able to enjoy wine and nibbles in your front room is greatly preferable to, say, certain outdoor pursuits..."

 

\--

 

Richard had already watched the semi-finals not long after their initial broadcast, not that he was about to tell Alexander this. The first song of the semi-finals was a particularly bombastic number from Malta, which Richard felt unlikely to win Alexander over in the space of its duration. "That's the good thing about these songs though," he told Alexander. "They've all got to be under three minutes long, so if you're not into what's on at the moment? It's not going to be that long until the next song. For three minutes, it'd have to be pretty terrible to be absolutely _unbearable_. ...Like Jemini." (This caused a knowing sound of amusement.) "See, you _do_ have _some_ Eurovision knowledge in you...!"

As far as Richard could make out, Alexander's preconception towards Eurovision seemed to be that the majority of the music would be terrible; Richard wasn't sure that this wasn't an entirely subjective line of thought to begin with, but knew that the sort of music considered quintessentially 'Eurovision' was, admittedly, nowhere near Alexander's _own_ taste in music. For all that Eurovision was considered a breeding-ground for that particularly European line of pop music, however, there could still be individual entries that brought something different; Richard found himself unsurprised that a pretty little ballad from Finland was the first to catch Alexander's ear, and so he felt it best not to mention until the moment of reveal that Finland had not, in fact, made it through to the finals that year.

Cyprus brought with it energetic techno, Slovakia some kind of heavy rock, Ukraine an upbeat dance number. Turkey was notable for its lavish setpiece and energetic dancers, and Moldova-- "Moldova is Moldova, I think that's all you can really say of them...!"

(Alexander opened the wine, but Richard made sure that his glass was always full. There was barely a thing about Eurovision that couldn't be improved by the steady stream of alcohol.)

Richard couldn't help a smile as Jedward cartwheeled onto the screen, aided by Alexander's rather immediate reaction. "Jedward, though? _Again_?"

"A fine, upstanding pair of young men. I won't hear a word against them."

" _Really_ , though? _Really,_ Richard?"

"... They can be quite... _enthusiastic_ , I will admit. Is that really so bad, though? I'm fine with enthusiasm."

"Would you want to be stuck in a lift with them, though?"

"I can still think of quite a few other people I'd rather _not_ be, let me tell you. Besides, I can't think of too many situations in which my sharing a lift with Jedward - and _only_ Jedward - and us getting trapped would really, realistically, come to pass. They're energetic, their music is popular, they've got a built-in fanbase. There are certainly worse strategies to try...!"

"If you say so..."

Trying to bring Alexander on-side for Eurovision was one thing, trying to bring him on-side for _Jedward_ was likely something different entirely. Still, Richard couldn't prevent some small feeling of success on watching Alexander watch them perform, barely reacting but for _there_ , on the sofa's armrest, his finger tapping beat to the music. For all of the times between takes that Alexander had drummed imaginary rhythms against his podium enough that Richard had worried it might fall over, Richard felt that introducing him to something that involved _music_ would have some sort of intended effect _eventually_.

"... Aren't there some countries missing, though?"

"In what way 'missing'? Not every country takes part every year. Who did you have in mind?"

"Well... I haven't seen _us_ , yet."

"Oh! No, we've got automatic entry. Us, Germany, Spain, France... oh, and Italy. It's mostly a financial thing though, I'm afraid."

"... I'm still reeling from the concept of Eurovision having semi-finals, to be quite honest."

"No, come on, I've definitely told you about the semi-finals before."

"I didn't think I'd actually be _watching_ them someday, though...! So we get in automatically, but Jedward have to contend with the rest of them? That hardly seems fair..."

"I wouldn't worry on Ireland's behalf, I think there's something like... two years they haven't taken part? And not through having failed at the semis, either. They'll be fine."

To Richard's delight, most of the entries seemed to have _something_ to hold Alexander's interest, even just for a moment. Whatever one thought of the actual music, a competition was still _a competition_ and there was that very basic shred of interest there present, _how will we do, though? Will we escape the dreaded nul points this year...?_ Richard felt that Alexander was getting drawn into the competition element halfway through the first semi-final, and by halfway through the second semi-final he had enough curiosity about various songs (some of which even made it into the main competition) to sustain interest, hopefully, through to the end. The main competition itself had the live element, too. Richard felt he'd managed to time the evening well when they finished the second semi-final ten minutes before the main programme. Richard put the television to mute as he poured the last of the current bottle into Alexander's glass; he'd certainly had more to drink than Richard thus far, but that surely only helped the situation.

"So are you ready for _the main event_...?"

"I believe I actually might be, now that you ask."

"Got your phone ready?"

"... What do I need my phone for?"

"Phone voting? And, of course, the biggest interactive element of the night - you're going to be tweeting your way through it, aren't you?"

Alexander's eyes widened for a moment, "Richard, if you tell twitter that I'm here with you now doing _this_ , then I--"

Richard held his phone up to Alexander's eye-level, "No sneaky little twitter photos?"

"I'd really rather you didn't...!"

"Not even one of us together, enjoying the Eurovision festivities...?"

"Richard, please...!"

Laughing, Richard lowered his phone (and the ever-present threat of the camera lens set into it). "Okay, okay, I won't, I won't. Not if you feel _that strongly_ about it. It'll really ruin your street cred by _that much_ if I told them...? Okay then, it'll be our little secret. Seriously though, twitter commentary is half the fun. You should really give it a go, sometime. ...Whenever it is you're prepared to come out as an avid follower of Eurovision, of course. Take your time on that one, it may be best not to rush these things."

And so did the main part of Eurovision begin, Richard keeping an eye on his phone and Alexander making a point of turning his off and putting it safely away in his pocket. The winners from the semi-finals performed once more, and Alexander got his opportunity to witness the entries of the Eurovision Big Five. France defied convention by bringing along something quite operatic - Richard didn't want to pin any stereotypes to Alexander too quickly, but then after their performance he turned around to Richard with a glowing impression of how much he'd enjoyed it and how well he now wanted France to do, and Richard supposed that some things never changed. Not that, of course, he particularly wanted them to. Being able to watch Alexander and really see him find some point of interest in this was the primary reward, after all.

"Don't you find that watching the semi-finals kind of... spoils it, though?"

"How do you mean?"

"It sort of... takes away from the surprise, I don't know. Coming to the main programme having already seen the majority of the acts and knowing that a lot of the ones I found most favourable didn't even _make_ it this far... I just feel as if the main event would be more exciting if we hadn't watched them beforehand, that's all. ...But then, if we hadn't, I would never have come across any of the non-qualifying songs to know that I might like them in the first place... quite a dilemma."

"The inevitable tie-in CD does have _all_ the songs on, you know. You could just watch the finals and then buy that afterwards."

"... Of course there's a CD. Of course there is."

By the time the voting came by, they were on the last of the alcohol and even Richard had had enough that he was beginning to feel quite tipsy, and so he wasn't quite sure at what stage between 'pleasantly merry' and 'paralytic' Alexander had reached, but he was still awake and watching with an avid sort of a look in his eyes, which seemed to be a good sign. The United Kingdom had submitted a cheerful pop piece, by somebody Alexander had never heard of and Richard was only vaguely aware. The song was perfectly serviceable, but both Alexander and Richard held their doubts (and Richard was quite amused to have this conversation with Alexander _and have him agree_ ) that it was a strong enough contender - being _good_ was different to being _Eurovision good_ , and even Richard wasn't too sure he had any idea what that mysterious quality happened to be.

France were in the process of distributing their votes, when Richard noticed something in particular. "Oh, hey, Xander, check out the guy from France. He's the French version of you."

Alexander stared at the screen with inebriated confusion. "He's the what now? He doesn't look anything like me."

"No no no. I mean, he's _you_ , in France. S'the French Pointless host."

" _Nul Points_ \--!"

" _Now_ you get it. It's called somethin' different though, can't remember what. Anyway, thought you might like to check out the competition."

"What about the French you though, Richard...?"

" _Well_ , about that--!" Richard leant forward, pointing one finger for emphasis. "First I was a woman, and then I didn't exist! How is _that_ even--... there's the point, right, and then, and then they've gone _way_ past it..."

Alexander reached out to pat the closest part of Richard he could make contact with, which happened to be his wrist. "There's only one Pointless friend, my friend, and you're that friend. _My_ friend. Not my fault if France doesn't want to promote friendship. ...And why's he doing this, anyway!? They've never asked me to do this--! I could _so_ do this! And look, look, they've got Alex Jones on there, and we're practically siblings of that One Show sofa..."

"I don't really know what you're talking about anymore, but I hear you, Xander. I hear you. It's probably got nothing to do with the fact that until tonight you never watched Eurovision at all and indeed seemed to present a fairly visceral dislike of the whole affair right up to this evening. Probably nothing to do with that at all."

The final votes came in, as the clock ticked minutes further towards midnight. Votes built slowly and steadily and then it became obvious that nobody was really going to be able to overtake Hungary, and they were indeed crowned the winners as the night drew to a close. The camera lingered over Jedward and Graham Norton gave his last few words of support in favour of the United Kingdom, before congratulating the worthy winners of this year's competition. Alexander sat back against the sofa with his empty wine-glass still in hand as the programme ended, and as it gave way to BBC trailers. Richard hit the mute button once more, allowing silence to fill the room before raising the one question on his mind.

"... So what did you think?"

Alexander turned to face Richard, his movements somewhat lethargic but his expression quite thoughtful. "I think... I think, what I'm going to do, is I'm going to take you to the Proms."

"Yeah?" Richard shrugged, bemused and yet amused both at once. "Okay then. Any reason for that?"

"Going to... going to _educate_ your musical _palate_."

"I like the Proms already, but sure! Let's do that. Should be fun."

"We've... we've sat here and watched Eurovision... including the semi-finals!... And I've sat here, and listened to you defending Jedward..." Alexander closed his eyes, poking one finger in the direction of Richard's chest. "The Proms, Rishard. We're gonna go to the Proms. Is gonna be great."

"I'd like that. I'll look forward to it."

"An' I liked this, too. S'fun. Thanks, Rishard."

Richard watched Alexander for a few moments longer, just in case he had anything vital to add to his conclusion. The way he sat with his eyes closed, gently nestling himself into the cushions of the sofa, led Richard to believe that he most likely did not. Richard stood from the sofa, to take the empty bowls and glasses and bottles through to the kitchen, deciding that Alexander was probably safe to nap on the sofa, just for a _little_ while. Richard paused at the sink, wondering if he'd be able to wake Alexander long enough to introduce him to the concept of going _upstairs_ to sleep... or perhaps he would slip comfortably into something deeper, because he _was_ tired, and he _did_ work hard...

As he lifted Alexander from the sofa into some sort of haphazard piggyback, Richard thought on how, at least _here_ , Alexander had the freedom to be able to get drunk and fall asleep on sofas, whatever whim he wanted to follow. _Can't do that when you're hosting a dinner party, can you?_ Or you _could_ , but then people might _talk_ , and people _talking_ was _definitely_ the worst possible outcome of a dinner party. Best avoided.

Richard thought on that, and he thought on what exactly he had in his wardrobe that was suitable or appropriate for the Proms. Was there a dress code? Alexander would know. Richard vowed to ask him, come the morning.

 

 

 

_end_


End file.
